


I'll Take Table Four

by xladysaya



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Random Fluff, another cafe au we didn't need in the fandom lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-19
Updated: 2017-01-19
Packaged: 2018-09-18 14:51:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9389870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xladysaya/pseuds/xladysaya
Summary: The whole week, the whole fucking week, whenever Yata clocked in, table four was waiting for him, messier than the previous day. Yata was beginning to think it was a prank, or some unknown enemy he had picked up on accident, because that's how deliberate it looked.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is from a tumblr request which wanted a fluffy sarumi cafe au, and I had sudden inspiration for it! I hope you enjoy!

_'Hey, what do you look like?'_

His handwriting was bad today, worse than usual, the black ink smudging in some places from how close his palm was to the felt tip of the pen. Yata swallowed thickly as he looked down at the sticky note, watching as his grip threatened to crumble the paper too much, making the words illegible.

_Fuck_ , that would be his third attempt. He shoved the third sticky note into his pocket, convincing himself that he had the whole rest of his shift to get it right. Growling under his breath, Yata closed his eyes, letting the sounds of clattering silverware and the chattering of customers fill his ears.

It was nearing the end of the late lunch hours, and service was winding down. Yata had barely clocked in thirty minutes before, catching the end of the rush, but it was by no means over. Soon, workers hungry for dinner would pour in as well, and the cafe would be bustling once more, loud and smelling of fresh spices and mouthwatering dishes.

It wasn't as bad as one would think, being the busboy for a popular cafe. Not to mention, his boss was nice, and the customers would often tip him for being so lively and efficient. Yata didn't exactly understand, all he was doing was clearing tables and doing the dishes, but he was thankful. In the beginning it had seemed like an annoying, but easy job, not to mention all his friends worked in the same shopping center, and he could meet them after work. It didn't pay a whole lot, but he worked another part time job in the morning, and the tips from the cafe along with both checks allowed him to live a comfortable bachelor's life, so he couldn't complain. Homra had the best food too, and Kusanagi let him eat however much he wanted!

Still, his job wasn't his current dilemma...more the schedule...

The bundle of unused sticky notes in his pocket suddenly felt a lot heavier.

Frustrated, he circled around the cafe again, picking up plates and wishing the patrons well as they collected their coats and left. On auto pilot, he picked up the heavy plates of half eaten burgers and dessert pastries, silently scolding people for wasting so much food. At least anything in the kitchen which didn't get eaten, including meals which were sent back, got donated to the hungry by Kusanagi.

Throwing the last of the plates into his gray bin, he wrung out one of the clean cloths he kept on hand, and began wiping down the tables. He had a good forty minutes before the dinner rush, maybe Kusanagi would let him have a piece of cake...

He needed the distraction.

"Something wrong Yata-kun?" A feminine, yet strong voice broke him out of his thoughts, and despite how long he'd worked there, he felt his face flush stupidly as he tried to formulate a response.

Awashima waited for him patiently, the only indication of confusion being her quirked eyebrow as he knocked into the bin behind him. "A-Awashima-san! I'm fine! J-just, worried about getting all this done before the rush...ha..ha..." Yata could've slapped himself.

"Oh? But you always get everything done in a timely manner. Are you sure?" The blonde inched forward a little, the concern flashing only momentarily in the clear blue of her eyes.

_Damn..._

Yata was never a great liar, but lying to girls was even harder _damnit_!

Awashima, Kusanagi's wife, was always so perceptive too, making sure all the employees were in their best of sorts. It was another nice thing about Homra in a way, if a worker wasn't feeling well or wasn't comfortable for some reason, Kusanagi and his wife were always understanding. It made them feel more like friends than superiors, and Yata respected them with everything he had. Even if Awashima scared him at first...

Not only was she beautiful, but she could be downright harsh to rude customers or part timers who weren't giving it their all. She was nice deep down though, and Yata could hold a decent conversation with her now, a few stutters aside.

He groaned, shoulders relaxing in defeat as he began to scrub at a small stain. "Nothing...I just have..."

_Ugh, fuck, this is embarrassing!_

He knew Awashima probably already  _knew_ what it was, fuck, everyone in his workplace  _knew_ , even his other friends knew, and they worked at completely different stores!

Why the blonde was forcing him to say it himself was humiliating, but maybe in a way it was good to vent.

"...It's table four again..." That was all he managed to say, and to any outsider it probably wasn't odd, maybe table four was where big parties sat, or was harder to maneuver around. But Awashima understood the real issue, a small, amused smile tugging at her lips.

"Ah...did something new happen? He was here again today, he looked more tired than usual," she said with a laugh, following Yata to the next table as he wiped it down. Yata flushed despite himself, _tired huh_? Saruhiko had told him he wasn't one to get much sleep, but Yata wondered what he actually looked like when he was exhausted. Did he have bags under his eyes? Was his clothing sloppy? What kind of clothes did Saruhiko even wear?

"N-nothing really, just...hey, can't you guys tell me what he looks like alreadu?! C'mon!" Yata bit his lip at his own outburst, but damn, it was frustrating! Plus...sometimes when things were on his mind, he just blurted them out.

"I'm afraid not Yata-chan," Kusanagi's smooth tone drifted into the space, and he casually wrapped an arm around Awashima's shoulders, handing her a clipboard with what Yata guessed had something to do with produce orders. "That would be cheating." Kusanagi's smirk told Yata he was having way more fun with his love life than he should be.

"But--!"

"Nope."

Yata wanted to face plant against the table, but it probably wouldn't have been a good idea, with all the chocolate stains and what not. Man, he could really go for some cake...

"Ah, I see you haven't figured out the daily sticky note yet." Kusanagi chuckled, watching as Awashima made her way back to the kitchen. The cafe was mostly empty now, aside from an old couple on the far side of the room, and the hostess at the front. Douhan hardly ever left the post, but Yata just knew she was listening.

_Everyone here is so damn nosy!_

Ever since that first day...

\--

A few months back, Yata had been pissed coming into work. Someone at his other job had made his life hell, leaving him all kinds of extra work in the construction yard. Yata's muscles were sore, he was tired, and the last thing he wanted was to bus tables. The rush that night had been especially bad, but it wasn't what had set him off.

No, in fact, the problem had happened before the dinner hour had begun at all. Table four. Yata rarely cleaned that side of the cafe, but it was his first day switching after a new busboy had been hired to help out, so now Yata was responsible for the right side of the cafe. No big deal, it was still the same job.

Or at least, he'd  _thought_ so. The customer at table four had already been gone by the time Yata had clocked in, but his mess was still visible, as if mocking Yata, challenging him to pick it up.

_What kind of asshole...._

The table was littered with notes, the rings of the half consumed coffee mug making the papers soggy and plastered to the table. The papers were crumpled, obviously scratch paper, like someone had come in, done a furious amount of homework, and then had dashed out without a care in the world. The various equations and definitions on the sheets were foreign to Yata as well, maybe math...physics? Whatever, point was, it was messy and totally inconsiderate!

Yata had grumbled about it the whole time he had picked it up, swearing at the mushy paper and ink stains which wouldn't come off his hands. He knew it was his job to clean up, but who was such a dick that they left all this for the staff to deal with?!

He was at least raised way better than  _that_.

After he'd successfully cleared it, he was immensely relieved, cursing whoever had occupied the table before, and hoping they never came back.

Yata had never been lucky.

The whole week, the whole  _fucking_ week, whenever Yata clocked in, table four was waiting for him, messier than the previous day. Yata was beginning to think it was a prank, or some unknown enemy he had picked up on accident, because that's how deliberate it looked.

But no...

"Oh, table four?" Douhan looked up from her list of reservations, preparing for the dinner rush. "It's the same guy every day, he comes in all huffy with his backpack, and won't leave for two hours at least. He doesn't talk much, and only orders coffee."

"He's not the nicest, but he makes my job easy," Chitose voiced, bringing the serving trays out from the back. Chitose was one of his friends, the one who'd gotten him the job in the first place, a waiter who seemed to know a lot of questionable things about the regulars. "He doesn't talk a lot, hell, I don't even know much about him. Only his order."

Now, that was weird. Chitose could make anyone talk with enough prodding, so this guy must really be a piece of work.

_Heh, that fits._

The next day, Yata glared at the table, eye twitching as he noticed more papers, and some leftover pens as well.  _How uncaring was this guy?_

On top of it all, and perhaps what pissed Yata off the most, was the plate. For once, the guy must've ordered food, but from what Yata saw, he might as well have not. The redhead recognized the dish. It was a signature steak, complete with a side of vegetables.  _Fresh_ vegetables. Homra put a lot of effort into finding good suppliers so all their food was delicious, and  _this motherfucker_...

Most of the steak was eaten, but all the vegetables had been crammed to one side of the plate, like they were contaminated, some of them spilling off onto the table.

Yata blinked, staring into the void where the table happened to be, the anger which had built up over the week surfacing until--

His impulses took over, and he stomped over to Douhan's station, not answering her questioning look as he grabbed the stack of sticky notes she kept there, and trotted back to the table, picking up one of the shitty pens the asshole had left behind.

Looking back, it wasn't his shining moment. Yata had no right to scold a customer, and he could've gotten in a lot of trouble for it, but  _fuck_ , he was so pissed.

Angrily, he scribbled his frustrations down, not really thinking.

_'Excuse me, but some people have to clean up after you! Who the hell leaves all their homework notes behind??? And how do you even walk, all you ever order is fucking coffee and now you order steak and don't eat the vegetables! Are you dying?'_

He grabbed the napkin holder, folding the note and stuffing it into the back of it, leaving only one edge sticking out.

For a brief moment, Yata's anger cleared, and he thought maybe he shouldn't be doing this. After all, if anyone looked hard enough, they could find the note, and he'd get in trouble, or the guy he was targeting would report him too. Or maybe, no one would find it, and it'd sit in the holder forever.

He exhaled suddenly, the tension flooding out of him.  _Right, this is stupid..._

He should know better, he wasn't some kid anymore who could fight the world whenever he wanted. He had bills to pay and rules to follow, and as much as he hated it, he'd try his best to keep a level head. Yata reached forward slowly, about to tug on the edge of the bright yellow paper sticking out and discard the note for good. It wasn't worth it in the end, he reasoned. Though, it would've been nice to give the table four guy a good scolding for all the trouble he'd caused.

_Whatever, it's not that big of a deal._

At that exact moment, the door whooshed open, and Yata realized in terror how much time he'd wasted. Forgetting about the note, he rushed to pick up the last of the main room, and waited for the dinner rush to begin.

\--

The next day was the same as usual, except when Yata walked up to the dreaded table four, there was a note.

A boring one, different from the bright yellow bear and animal shaped ones which Douhan kept. It was square, and a light blue, so simple, yet it froze Yata in his tracks.

_Shit_.

So  _that's_ what he'd forgotten. Yata felt panic and relief all at once. Panic, because man, he seriously prayed no one else had walked by before he'd arrived and seen the note first. Relief, because both bosses had greeted him happily on his way in, meaning that they had no knowledge of the note, and that table four guy hadn't complained.

_At least he's trying to resolve this between the two of us._

Yata almost felt guilty. He'd been in a bad mood, and had raged at an unsuspecting customer. A sloppy, obviously inconsiderate customer, but still a customer.

He shook it off, approaching the note, so the wording became clearer, and hoped he could move on after reading the guy's apology.

Only it wasn't an apology.

There, scrawled in neat, almost feminine handwriting, were two phrases, ones Yata would never forget, and all sense of guilt or amity flew right out the fucking store window.

_'It isn't my fault you can't do your pathetically easy job. Fuck you.'_

_This..._

"This asshole!" Yata's grip on the note was fierce, and he threw it roughly into the garbage, seething from deep within his soul.

_No. No way am I gonna take that!_

For the second day in a row, he stormed over to Douhan, who didn't even glance up from her magazine as he took a bundle of sticky notes. These ones were duck shaped, not the most intimidating, but they would have to do. He scribbled as fast as he could, aware that he should really start getting shit done, his handwriting twelve times sloppier than the guy's. Somehow, it pissed him off even more.

_'Fuck you! At least I was raised with manners and shit! Fucking come say that to my face you dick!'_

Yata had jammed the note into the holder, itching for a response.

\--

That had been how it all started, and now he was here. Yata groaned, scrubbing a little too hard at a stain, threatening to peel some of the paint off the table’s surface. He glanced up at Kusanagi with an unamused expression, thinking back to his comment.

"I figured out the sticky note for today okay! It's just embarrassing!" Yata glared at his boss, watching as the other was obviously enjoying his pain.

"Hey, you brought this on yourself," Chitose's voice lingered from the kitchen, and soon after, he stepped out, no longer in his uniform. Chitose was off work, soon to be replaced by another server, and Yata envied him as he began to waltz towards the exit. "You wrote him first. You really suck at flirting, in fact, the both of you do."

Yeah. He couldn't argue with that. It wasn't like Yata had been trying to flirt in the first place though damnit! It had just...happened.

Fushimi Saruhiko. That was table four guy. Yata learned the name after about a week of their feud. After their first exchange, Saruhiko had made it his mission to mess up his table as much as possible, seemingly fueled by his spite for Yata. The redhead had cursed him all along the way, and their correspondence increased rapidly over the next few weeks purely out of shared pettiness.

It started off as expected: insults. Saruhiko was surprisingly witty and clever with his comebacks, which only served to increase Yata's anger with every work day.

_'As if I'd want to fight a cafe worker. Maybe I can't, for all you know I could be some old man who you're harassing.'_

**_'Cut the crap! Your homework has university class headers! You can't be that old!'_ **

_'Ah, snooping are we? And commenting on my diet earlier, you must genuinely care.'_

**_'You better hope I never see your stupid face on the street!'_ **

_'Even if you did, it's not like you'd know.'_

That conversation haunted Yata more now, considering Saruhiko had been right. They'd been talking through sticky notes for almost two months, Yata knew all sorts of facts about the other, but what Saruhiko actually looked like was still a mystery, and the worst part was, he was the only one in the dark. All his morning coworkers, his bosses, they all  _knew_.

It's not like it would've mattered, if it hadn't been for the fact that Yata, somewhere in between those exchanged insults, which had then turned into casual questions, and then small talk, had completely developed a crush by accident.

_How fucking lame._

It wasn't like he could help it. He'd learned a surprisingly amount of stuff about Saruhiko, and in return had shared a good amount of stuff about himself. Maybe it was stupid, after all, Saruhiko was technically a stranger, but...

Yata smiled to himself as he wrung out a new rag, bits and pieces of conversations running through his head in a split second. He thought about each note, each topic and fact he'd learned about the other boy, all leading up to the very last one he'd had.

**_'Hey, how come you never come eat dinner or anything here? You come every day for lunch.'_ **

_'Do you want me to?'_

_Yata nearly dropped the utensils he'd been picking up as a flush spread out across his face. Fuck, thank god Saruhiko wasn't actually at Homra, Yata was mess today…_

_Yata stared at the singular question, biting his bottom lip, because really, the answer was obvious. Of course, he wanted Saruhiko to come when he was actually working. Yata wanted to see him, talk to him in person, maybe..._

_Yata shut that train of thought down as fast as he could, and instead shakily wrote out his response._

**_'Well...yeah, don't you want to?'_ **

_It might've been lame, but what did Yata have to lose? He was pretty sure his feelings were obvious anyways...right? Could those things even come across in such little notes? Sure, sometimes they'd use up two or three for their responses, almost like letters, if the conversation needed it, but was that enough?_

_Yata tried to reason with himself that if it wasn't obvious, if Saruhiko asked, he'd have to spill his guts. Then...if Saruhiko rejected him, there'd be no real problem, because they didn't know each other and would never have to cross paths._

_Yata swallowed thickly at the thought though. No, that wasn't true. He didn't know what Saruhiko looked like, the color of his eyes, the style of his hair, but he knew he liked video games, and hated parties, and his hobby was graphic design, and he seldom slept well, and a whole bunch of other shit which made him feel close to the other._

Yata snapped back to the present when Chitose continued to talk to him. "You know Yata, you don't exactly have to worry. That guy comes in and the first thing he does is read your note and respond, he does it before he even gets his coffee! That guy practically lives off that shit too..."

Yata's hands tightened around the rag, the water sloshing out over the table he'd been cleaning way too long, and a spike of happiness nearly knocked him into oblivion.

Saruhiko...was excited to talk to him.

"So, yeah," Chitose said breezily, waving goodbye as he headed out the door. "He's into you, so write your damn response and ask him out already!"

Kusanagi chuckled beside him, flipping through the paperwork he held as he shot Yata a knowing look, and headed to the other side of the cafe.

_Ask him out..._

Part of Yata wondered if it was too soon, if the request would be too sudden, but then there was that knowledge from before. He knew Saruhiko, not fully, but...

He knew Saruhiko was smart. That was the first thing he'd discovered.

\--

_One day, Yata hauled himself through the cafe doors grumpily, pinning on his name tag and carrying his bin over to table four, same as every day, expecting the usual smart ass note. He'd gotten one of course, a response to his last, and a bit longer than usual, taking up almost the whole sticky note._

_'I don't do my homework here because I want to, it's just quieter, but you sound obnoxious, so maybe you just don't know anything about that concept. I like getting my homework done all at once, it's a pain if I wait.'_

_Yata glared down at it, pulling out his own pack of notes (which he now kept in his pockets, as one does when engaged in a note war with a rude son of a bitch) in preparation for his reply. Something stopped him that day though. He looked over mid-sentence, seeing a stack of papers which stood out from the usual notes and scribbles Saruhiko tended to leave behind._

_They seemed more important somehow, and begrudgingly, Yata scooped them up, intent on putting them in the lost and found. Upon closer inspection, he figured out they had been a few of the other's past exams, physics from what the headers said, and Saruhiko had scored high._

_Like, impossibly high. And shit, it was pretty amazing._

_He'd stared at them for a good two minutes, going over the information on each page, the difficult concepts which Saruhiko's nice writing seemed to answer quickly and efficiently, like an expert, and Yata couldn't help but be impressed._

_All previous comebacks and taunts left his mind, and he'd written one question on the small square for the day._

**_'Hey, you scored almost perfect on your tests! What do you study?? That's so cool!'_ **

_It was only later that Yata raced back to the table before closing, and added something to the end._

**_'For a jerk anyways!'_ **

Saruhiko had ended up being a double major, in physics and biology, and Yata wondered how he wasn't dead. Saruhiko had seemed shy at first to answer Yata's questions about university life, but after a while, most things were fair game. Saruhiko liked his professors well enough, but he thought his campus was too crowded. Saruhiko got good grades (something he'd only admitted after a lot of prodding on Yata's part), and his Tuesdays and Thursdays were the busiest.

_'What about you?'_

_It was the third week of their correspondence when Saruhiko asked him his first question, and for whatever reason, it made Yata's heart stop for a millisecond, and he'd paused before reading the rest of the note._

_'You don't go to school or anything?'_

_"Ooo, what are you gonna say?" Chitose's voice came up behind him, and Yata all but had a heart attack, jumping back and hitting his hip against the table, all the while Chitose went on as normal. "That must be kinda embarrassing...but don't worry!"_

_Yata's annoyed look morphed into confusion, and he blinked at his friend. "Huh...embarrassing? Why?"_

_Chitose must've realized right then that he'd stepped on a land mine, because he waved his hands in front of him immediately. "N-nothing! Just tell him whatever you were gonna tell him!"_

_The damage was done though, and Yata was nervous. Still, he wasn't a liar..._

**_'No...I dropped out of high school because it rlly wasn't for me you know? I work though! My jobs aren't for smart people I guess ha, but I'm glad I have them!'_ **

_Yata tried not to sound too defensive, but he couldn't help it. He didn't want Saruhiko to think he was dumb (if he didn't already), and the rest of the day and the next was filled with a strange new anxiety._

_The next day, he'd gone to table four, and the rest of his shift, his coworkers were concerned his face was stuck in a permanent grin._

_'You have a job, so what does the rest matter?'_

After that, it had been easy to tell Saruhiko all his work stories, all his encounters with mean customers and dumb jokes from the break room. Saruhiko asked him more questions than before, stuff about if he liked working in a restaurant, and if it made him sick of the food.

It was so weird, being able to talk to Saruhiko so naturally. By the end of the first month, Yata knew he just clicked with the other, and damn it, he wasn't going to let that slip by. Though...

Getting the more personal details out of Saruhiko, it had been more of a challenge, but Yata never backed down from those. 

**_'You must study a lot, when do you have time for fun? Hanging out with friends and stuff...All my friends work in this center, so it's awesome!'_ **

_'Fun? Most of the people I talk to are classmates, so I see them often. I don't dislike them I guess.'_

_Yata smirked at that. Saruhiko was so hesitant at admitting things sometimes, Yata could tell from his writing alone. Basically, in Saruhiko speak, he did indeed have friends, and he probably liked them a lot._

_Yata didn't exactly know where to start with the response. He had so many questions. What were Saruhiko's friends like? Did Saruhiko act different around them? Did he have a lot? What did they do together?_

_There was so much he wanted to know, it was like he was playing catch up. He was jealous of people who already knew Saruhiko, who got to be around him all the time…_

_Eventually, Yata calmed down, and figured the topic of friends would be a long conversation and was better saved for later. Besides, what he wanted to know most of all..._

**_'You don't have anything else you like to do? I play video games when I get home! I also like action movies n stuff. Do u? What are your faves??'_ **

_Yata was excited to know. Small details, big details, whatever Saruhiko would offer. It was after that reply that he'd begun to start day dreaming. Maybe he and Saruhiko could go see movies together, if they liked the same kinds. Or maybe Saruhiko could come to his apartment and they could play video games, Saruhiko would probably be good at the strategy ones..._

_He'd bolted into the cafe the next day, hardly remembering to shrug on his apron as he walked briskly to the table which he’d come to hate less and less each day._

_His heart raced when he realized he'd been left five notes, small paragraphs, and he wanted to jump for joy._

_'I guess, I like those things too.'_

It was shortly after, in between the movie analyses and talking about their game collections, that Yata knew he liked Saruhiko more than just a friend.

\--

Yata began to look forward to each new note, no matter how brief. He grew excited, thinking about the papers of physics notes with little doodles and messages about how to beat certain bosses in the newest game they both owned. Yata was so lame, he was even happy about picking up Saruhiko's half empty coffee cup, still warm and serving as a reminder that yes, Saruhiko was real, and he'd only just missed him. Yata would run from his first job, eager to see what Saruhiko had left him in the shoddy napkin holder. Yata would daydream at his morning job, dream that maybe if he ran fast enough, he'd catch Saruhiko before he left and they'd finally meet.

No such luck so far.

Yata finished cleaning the last table just as the first party showed up for the beginning of the dinner rush, and he realized it was now or never.

He didn't think he had enough confidence to ask Saruhiko out quite yet, plus...part of him wanted to do something like that in person, as cheesy as it was.

"Welcome to Homra, how many this evening?" Douhan's level voice carried through the cafe, alerting the wait staff and cooks to get ready, and Yata made his decision. He still had one more question he wanted to ask, no matter how humiliating it was, no matter how much Saruhiko might laugh at him for it.

Walking over to table four, Yata gently pulled out Saruhiko's last note to him.

_'I can't come at dinner time until my semester is over, my classes run late, by the time I'm out, the cafe is closed.'_

Yata's breath catches again, as it had the first time he read it, as his eyes drifted to the second half of the note. _'Otherwise, I would.'_

_He would come see me if he could. Once the semester is over, Saruhiko can come see me._

It's all the motivation he needed really, as he took out his pen and the dumb stack of duck shaped notes.

**_'I'm glad you can come at all, I want you to. Btw Saruhiko--'_ **

The crowds start to flood in, and Yata took in a deep breath.

**_'-what do you look like?'_ **

\--

As Yata sat in bed after a long day, he found himself wondering what the fuck compelled him to ask that question. It probably looked super weird, maybe even pervy, and he was cursing himself once again.

It was too late though, he'd done it. That dumb note was sitting in the napkin holder right now, unable to be retrieved or torn up. Saruhiko was going to read it, and the realization made Yata giddy and nauseated all at once.

He wanted to know, he wanted to know so much it hurt. He wanted to put a face to the name, make his daydreams less hazy. Saruhiko had to be handsome, it didn't matter if it was in the traditional sense or not. Saruhiko  _would_ be handsome to Yata, there was no doubt. Yata had theorized before, and it was fun, but there was no beating the truth. At the thought, he laughed to himself, clutching his pillow a little tighter as a few memories crossed his mind.

**_'Ur a real piece of shit. You should rlly eat better...and stop leaving ur shit on the table!'_ **

_Saruhiko had left another plate of vegetables abandoned that day, and Yata glared. The homework he'd gotten used to, with most of his initial anger about it gone, but the food was something which had continued to bother him._

_'I don't like vegetables. What do you care?'_

**_'I don't know, all you drink is coffee, and if you don't eat vegetables, who knows what kind of shit you're eating at dinner time!'_ **

_'How sweet of you, but I'm alive, so no need to nag me.'_

Looking back at those few days of exchanges, Yata smiled fondly. Saruhiko was probably some skinny guy, that much he could guess. Then there was also the other annoying detail...

**_'I could totally take you! I'm tougher than I look!'_ **

The proclamation had ended up being a mistake.

_'Oh? Are you on the smaller side then? How tall are you, Misaki?'_

A few days and some embarrassed insults later, Yata found out how tall Saruhiko was.

_What a bastard..._

That was it though. Saruhiko was tall, probably skinny, and always looked tired (according to his co-workers). Yata had a nagging feeling that he didn't smile much either, but it somehow seemed to fit.

As gone as Yata was, he couldn't help but be annoyed that the only thing Saruhiko knew about his appearance was his height.

\--

"Um...Yata-kun, aren't you going to read it?"

Awashima's voice sounded miles away, but even then he could hear the light teasing there, and it became a bit clearer as to why she and Kusanagi were perfect partners after all.

"Uh, why?" Yata winced at his own stupid question.

"Well...it's quite obvious you want to," she tried again, tapping her pen against the table's surface. "You've been here quite a while."

She had a point. Yata had been standing in front of table four for way too long, staring at the napkin holder with sweaty palms and a flushed face as the corners of the same, plain blue note stuck out.

_Fuck._

There it was, the excitement pooling in his gut. Would Saruhiko indulge him, would he finally know? Or would he be made fun of or called weird? Would this be the last note he ever--

"Yata, you still have six more tables," Douhan's calm voice called from the hostess stand, and it was enough to snap him out of it. Though they could be a little too perceptive for Yata's comfort, he was thankful for his female co-workers, if only because they helped him get a grip.

_Right, I have to read it now or wait until after dinner, and hell no am I doing that!_

Carefully, he reached forward, tugging at the fold of paper. It was only one note, not the usual three or four, so he already felt dread as he unfolded it, the neat words revealing themselves.

All anxiety was replaced with relieved amusement, and Yata didn't know whether to be pissed off or over the moon.

_'I don't know. Normal I guess. Why?'_

God, if that wasn't such a  _Saruhiko_ thing to say.

He started laughing, which must've concerned Awashima, because she reached to pluck the note from his hands, reading it in confusion.

"He's an odd one."

_Yeah_...

When his chuckles finally subsided, Yata felt ready to work, deciding to leave his response for after his shift was over.

He was in a good mood throughout the dinner rush, and actually ended up receiving a few tips from customers who found his presence refreshing when he went out to help with large parties. All the while, Saruhiko's note was on his mind.

Yata couldn't believe he'd expected anything different. Saruhiko, the same shy Saruhiko he'd been talking to, wouldn't just give him an all-out description of his fashion sense, of his eye color, his face shape. Hell, he probably hadn't even considered it, and it made Yata grin whenever he thought about it.

_What a loser._

Sometime in the midst of his rounds, he dropped off his reply, and this time he couldn't wait for Saruhiko's.

**_'No! I meant what do you LOOK like? You dumbass. I want to kno that shit, don't you?'_ **

The next day, Yata was on cloud nine.

_'Of course, don't be dumb.'_

\--

There had been some resistance even after that, Saruhiko was obviously too humble, but after Yata had looked at his own self in the mirror (which had been painfully awkward and sorta weird to do alone in his own apartment for longer than a few minutes), and told Saruhiko his observations with little embellishment, Yata had gotten what he wanted.

He bit his lip, clocking into work after his break and letting the thoughts flood him.

Saruhiko was tall. _Lanky_ and tall. He had blue eyes, and his skin was light and pale. Saruhiko styled his hair with gel, the brown swoops would otherwise sit flat on his head apparently, which annoyed him greatly. Saruhiko wore a lot of hoodies and jeans, and he also sported simple, black framed glasses.

With each detail, the blurred image in Yata's head became clearer and clearer, though it was never enough.

The taller's eyes probably stood out brightly against his skin, the glasses heavy and managing to hide the bags of exhaustion under Saruhiko's eyes. Saruhiko's hair was probably long enough to thread his hands through it, Yata would probably have to push off his feet a bit to be eye to eye, to kis--

"Yata, table three!"

"R-right!"

Every 'probably' in his head multiplied, but as happy as it made him, he wasn't sated.

_I want to see him._

He wanted every 'probably' to become 'actually.'

\--

**_'I want to see you for real now.'_ **

_'There's not much to see.'_

...

**_'Saruhiko, ur an ass but I think I really like you.'_ **

_'You're obnoxious, but I probably like you too. I can't explain it otherwise, it’s annoying.'_

**_'Explain what?'_ **

_'Why I think about you.'_

...

**_'Have you ever kissed anyone before? I haven't but I bet I wouldn't be that bad heh...'_ **

_'Mm. You probably wouldn't be. I don't know about me though. It doesn't look too hard. It's stupid.'_

**_'Well pft I'd help or whatever.'_ **

\--

It was another month of replies later, and it was the last week of university instruction. Not that Yata had looked it up or anything...no way.

The conversations with Saruhiko had gotten more and more intimate, to the point where Yata would wake up with...problems, and he'd get distracted at work more often.

He got made fun of, of course. He was pretty sure Eric (the perv) had peeked at more than a few notes, and Chitose had shot him knowing glances across the room more times than he could count. Douhan and Awashima also felt the need to update him every day now, which he was secretly grateful for.

'He blushed today, I've never seen him do that, what did you tell him?'

'He actually smiled, it was unreal.'

'He cleaned up after himself when he spilled his coffee. He looked pretty determined to keep the table clean.'

Though all the teasing and implications were humiliating, it couldn't stomp out the overall ecstasy he was feeling as the weeks went by, and now...

_'My last final is Thursday afternoon.'_

The week couldn't go by any slower.

He dropped about five plates over the next few days, bumped into tables one too many times, and Kusanagi had scolded him quite a bit more than usual. He couldn't help it, he was distracted.

Saruhiko was going to come eat dinner on Thursday. Saruhiko was going to be there when Yata was working. Saruhiko was going to meet him.

Rumor spread in the cafe pretty damn quickly, which only served to make Yata twenty times more nervous.

What if Saruhiko changed his mind, or didn't like what he saw? What if they had nothing to talk about in person?

_Shit, I'm screwed. Why am I being such a kid about this?_

"Yata."

Douhan's light voice made Yata jump, clutching his chest as he turned to see her in the doorway of the break room, calm and maybe a bit put off from the noise.

"Uh...s-sorry. What is it?"

Wordlessly, she closed the distance, pulling out an object from her bag and handing it to him, before turning back and out the door.

Right before she left for good, she turned, an easy grin on her usually impassive face. "He left it for you today."

Yata's eyes widened, flying to the item in his hand, only to see it was the newest game for the console only Saruhiko owned. Yata had the older model, so he was confused at first, to say the least. There was another note on top however, a smaller one, but it was everything to Yata.

_'It's a quick game, maybe on Thursday, you can try it out at my place to see if you want to borrow it. Something tells me someone as brash as you would need help anyways.'_

A shiver ran through him, and Yata stupidly clutched the note in his hand, rushing to the employee room to put it somewhere safe, as if he was imagining it and wanted proof later.

Saruhiko was such a dick, but he was also awkward and shy and had totally invited Yata over, and the redhead's anxiety quickly spun into anticipation.

\--

The last note he left Saruhiko was on Wednesday night.

**_'I'll see you at dinner you loser.'_ **

\--

Thursday's dinner shift was one of the worst in history, and while Yata wasn't one for superstitions aside from the occasional paranormal shit, he was pretty convinced the shift had been littered with bad omens.

First, a spill at table six, which had left his sweater completely covered in some screaming kid's root beer. Yata handled it like a champ, not letting his discomfort show until he'd calmed the boy down with another soda and a replacement coloring set and made his way to the back.

He'd worn one of his nice hoodies, one with less tears and unraveled threads. He may have worked as a busboy, and no doubt his clothes got dirty with each shift and he smelled like dish water, but damnit, if he wasn't going to try and make some kind of impression on the guy he'd been interested in for months!

Sadly, the plan had failed, though he couldn't say the plain white long sleeve he had on under his sweater was  _that_ bad. He'd just have to be careful...

That plan had also been flushed straight down the shitter.

One of the newer employees had also managed to let the mop sink in the back overflow, and Yata had been the one to clean it, effectively soaking through his shoes and socks.

The most recent issue, the dreaded Burger Incident (Chitose had already given it a name, ha fucking ha), was still sitting heavy on his shoulders (and on his shirt).

Who knew slipping on a slightly under cooked patty would lead to a near death experience.

Yata sighed heavily as he cleared yet another table, trying his best to keep on a neutral expression as the chaos of the dinner rush continued around him.

Then...there was the biggest disappointment.

It was halfway into the rush, and still no Saruhiko. Yata tried to reason through it as best he could, but he'd never been the particularly patient type.

_He's just running late._

_There's still two hours left._

_He wouldn't forget._

_He wants to see me._

But as he looked to the door, where new families and business executives kept coming through, he felt his heart sinking.

"Excuse me."

_Maybe he's just..._

"Excuse me sir!"

Yata was jolted back to his senses by the sound of a woman from two tables down, and it was obvious her irritated stare was directed at him. Yata straightened immediately, making his way over and letting his customer service persona consume him as best he could. He wasn't a server, but Kusanagi always said it was everyone's job to assist patrons.

With his usual grin and unsuspecting optimism, Yata waited for whatever the woman had to say, trying not to take it too personally when she didn't even face him when she was speaking.

"Yes, if you could, would you find my waiter? He can't even take a proper food order it seems, I asked for seasoned vegetables, not rice, and I wanted this steak  _well_ done."

In his head, Yata's alert system goes off immediately, because really, this is how most 'awful customer' situations begin, and he knows he has to diffuse it as quickly as possible.

Since it was table nine, it was most likely Chitose's, and luckily the other could talk his way out of most situations. He was probably ringing someone up...

"Ah, I'm really sorry about that m'am! Let me just find him and take this back to the kitch--"

"How difficult is it really? I was very clear with my order, I expect him to be properly dealt with."

And that's when Yata tenses.

_Uh oh._

Douhan's green irises flashed in his direction from where she was seating another party, and they seemed to echo the same realization.

_It's one of those. This is bad. Abort mission._

'One of those' usually meant a rather intense customer, someone who complained about little things, and simultaneously put down the staff. They were never fun, and Yata had seen it from afar, but dealing with it himself was terrifying.

"Again, I apologize, I'll take care of it and get you a new meal as soon as possible!"

_Please leave it at that. Please leave it at that._

She doesn't.

"My dinner should be free at this point, can I speak to the manager?" The lady is looking at him now, finally, since before she'd only been scowling at the drinks menu as if she was above looking him in the face. Her eyes roamed over him, once, and then once more, slower the second time, until her nose crinkled up in dissatisfaction. It seemed she'd finally noticed.

Yata didn’t really have to guess what she was going to say, he'd often been given snooty looks from customers, it just came with his job. Sometimes, no matter how nice or genuine he was about his hard work, people couldn’t see past the rolled up sleeves and stains on his apron. But, it never failed to make him sick either way.

" _Oh_. Yes, I absolutely will need to speak to a manager. What a waste of breath, I doubt a busboy could help me in any--"

"It's odd that someone who's already eaten more than half their meal would have any complaints," a smooth, low voice cut through the air between Yata and the customer, and only then did Yata realize someone was standing next to him. For whatever reason, he felt his entire body shiver, like it had registered something before he had. "You're disturbing the other people here with your nonsense, myself included."

The woman sputtered, overcome with the embarrassment of other people's eyes on her, but Yata didn't care at all about her regrets about making such a fuss, because as soon as he turned to his side, he was practically blindsided.

He was looking at the other man's waist first, because he was holding something out for Yata to take, and the redhead grasped for it dumbly.  _Menus_...

"A server forgot to collect these from my table, so here," he said, and  _fuck_ that voice was so smooth. Yata nodded, basically too busy to process the fact that the menus were supposed to stay at the table  _anyways_ , and finally looked up into the face he'd been dreaming about for months.

The rest of the conversations around him might as well have been nonexistent, his body on autopilot as he began to move away when Kusanagi came to take over the disturbance. Yata was too blown away, couldn't even make himself turn back to the customer as she muttered out an embarrassed apology, because  _fuck,_ he would know those eyes in front of him anywhere.

Blue, sharp, like the calm in the wake of a storm at sea, threatening to drown him with one step into its depths.

He'd never seen them before, but he  _knew_.

There was no mistaking the intensity of the gaze, the way his face was framed by the messily styled hair, the slightly concealed bags underneath his glasses...

Yata knew exactly who it was, would've known him in the largest of crowds or most muddled of spaces.

He had been right, Saruhiko was handsome, but more so than Yata had expected, or knew how to handle. His back hit the far wall by the entrance to the kitchen, distanced a bit from the dining area, struck with the exciting observation that Saruhiko had fucking walked him _backwards_ over to somewhere more private, maybe without noticing too, judging from how those calculating eyes were taking Yata in as well, soaking in every detail, and the redhead could only hope Saruhiko was as pleased as he himself was.

_God I probably look and smell like shit...but Saruhiko is..._

"Wow..." It slipped out before Yata could stop himself, and he straightened quickly when Saruhiko's eyes snapped up to meet his, and Yata could see the other swallow and  _fuck I can't do this._

But then the moment in time resumed, and all the sounds of the dining room and laughter flooded back to Yata's ears with one click of Saruhiko's tongue. The taller glared at the ground, avoiding Yata's gaze as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

"Wow yourself..." Saruhiko muttered shyly, the  _faintest_ hint of a blush sweeping across his cheeks, and Yata was pretty sure he was gonna marry this stupid jerk. "I hope that's not all you can say."

Ah yeah, this was definitely Saruhiko. 

"Shut up! You know it's not!"

"Well obviously you can  _write_ ," Saruhiko replied, his lips upturning in a slight smirk which Yata couldn't help but return. "But who knows?"

"What?" Yata's eyes were challenging now he was sure, and he was grateful that they were pretty much hidden from view, only servers walking by would be able to see how close they were, how Yata was staring between Saruhiko's lips and eyes because he couldn't decide which once was better. "You think I'm an impostor?"

"No," Saruhiko's answer was quick, cutting almost, and the urge to kiss him intensified about twenty times more.

_No, it would be too soon...right?_

Maybe the whole thing was going too fast, but Saruhiko was so easy to engage with, the words wouldn’t stop, and it didn’t help Yata’s urges. _Calm down_ …

But then he remembered the months of conversations, of exchanging fucking  _letters_ essentially, and all the dumb things he knew about the other. Saruhiko's daily routine, the classes he took, how he liked his coffee, his favorite movies and video games, and then suddenly it didn't seem too soon at all.

_Fuck...no no...we haven't even done proper introductions, he just showed up! I should shake his hand or...talk about something else...yeah uh--_

"There's no way it's not you," Saruhiko continued, voice lowering as if he was trying to make it as inaudible as possible. "You're better than I pictured."

The 'maybe I should kiss him' in Yata's head instantly became 'I definitely will.'

Yata shakily raised his hands to Saruhiko's shirt collar, because _the hell with handshakes_ , and he flushed furiously, trying not to seem like a total loser as Saruhiko stepped even closer into the touch, lips parting.

_Hell_...

He seriously hoped no one would come by to watch him tremble like a teenager with his first kiss, but that's what it felt like, and it was exciting and he wanted it more than anything.

"U-uh...w-well I'm gonna--"

"Yeah," Saruhiko cut him off, and they both leaned in, their lips crashing together in a kiss Yata had waited  _way_ too long for.

Saruhiko's skin was cold from the outside air, but his breath was hot against Yata's face as they tentatively pulled back every now and again, only to curiously push forward to press their mouths back together. Each peck seemed innocent, closed mouthed and experimental, yet there was nothing slow about the kisses. They were hungry, quick, light smacking being created as a result, and Yata felt like he could fly if he tried. Saruhiko smelled like peppermint and coffee with just the slightest edge of hair product thrown in, and Yata breathed in greedily as Saruhiko's hand pulled him closer.

It was only when Yata heard a triumphant 'yes!' being yelled from the kitchen, followed by an 'ow,' did Yata break away in embarrassment.

His face was impossibly red, but he still managed to throw open the kitchen door to glare at Chitose, who was holding his side from where Awashima had jabbed him. Right, Yata had forgotten about the small window in the kitchen’s door. He hadn’t even thought Chitose would consider peeping through it either. The older man had no sense of shame though, simply throwing Yata a thumbs up before the door shut again.

Yata needed to pay more attention to his surroundings. He groaned, hiding his face in his hands while Saruhiko took a few steps away.

He'd gotten carried away, but considering how great of a fucking kiss that had been, he couldn't regret it too much.

"U-um...we should uh...maybe..." Yata stuttered uselessly, eyes meeting Saruhiko's again and rendering speech more impossible than before.

_Fuck it._

He thrust his hand out awkwardly, nearly jabbing Saruhiko in the stomach with the action, and watched as the taller stared at the outstretched hand in confusion.

"Yata Misaki, nice to finally meet you."

It was stupid, since they'd just fucking  _kissed_ , and had learned each other's names  _months_ ago, but it was the best Yata could do.

The silence between them was starting to get to him though, his hand beginning to shake as he awkwardly kept it in front of him, and he was torn between laughing it off as a joke or simply jumping off the nearest cliff.

But then there was a smooth hand slipping into his, grasping firmly in what was probably the most unnecessary handshake ever, and Yata sighed with obvious relief. Saruhiko's hand was cold, and Yata tightened his grip, eager to change that.

"Really? Fine. Fushimi Saruhiko."

_Yeah, it sounds so much better in person._

Yata grinned brightly, and as Saruhiko returned it, he knew nothing would ruin the moment. He doubted he'd ever forget it either.

"I work for a few more hours, can you wait?" Yata hoped the offer to go home with Saruhiko still stood, his body practically vibrating in excitement.

Saruhiko smirked in full this time, and yeah, Yata was gone.

"Table for one?"

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments are appreciated ^^  
> Twitter: itsloveuasshole  
> Tumblr: its-love-u-asshole


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